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A Word with Friends: Of Houses, Hearts and Hidden things

My thanks to @hedwigoprah for this game and to @elishnord who is keeping it alive – I am only now picking this back up and go back to all the words I've missed since last year (good god it took so much longer to get back than I thought I would!) Shoutout and my undying love to @kabsey who beta read this chapter for me, thank you for always being amazing and for being my biggest cheerleader <3

Read on Ao3 (6.7k) Rating: M Pairing: Illario x Rook

Word prompts given: (n) Avoirdupois: • The official system of weights used in UK between 1856 and 1963. It had been the customary system in London since 1300. • The official system of weights used in USA between 1866 and 1959. • Weight; heaviness.

Divider can be found here

"Morning, Kitty Cat."

"… Go die."

"Aww, come now. That's not nice to say, Talla."

"I'm sorry. Please go die."

"There's the polite girl I know!"

Lilya stared at Illario from over the rim of a steaming cup of cioccolata calda, a half-eaten cornetto on the plate before her. He snickered, ripped off a piece of pastry, dipped it into his cappuccino, and meowed under his breath. Lilya looked up sharply and kicked him under the table, Illario cursing between loud chortles.

Blowing on the sweet drink to cool it down, Lilya allowed herself to look to the side to regain whatever was left of her composure. She hadn't slept much the night before, tossing and turning, thinking about how stupid she had been and how much danger she put them both in. She always ruminated over her mistakes in hopes of learning from them and never repeating them, yet she found her thoughts drifting more and more towards her partner, until she finally gave up, succumbed to her errant thoughts, and dissected everything she thought she knew about him. All that got her was where she had started, not knowing which Illario was the true Illario and which mask was his true face after all.

Meanwhile, he came down looking as fresh as a daisy, not one hair out of place, like he had slept for a decade with how bright-eyed and full of smiles he was. He made Lilya feel frumpy and plain beside him, which was a feat in and of itself. Lilya knew she was very attractive even on her worst days, but compared to him, she felt like she was all eye bags, scowls, and frizzy hair.

Unfortunately, the man caught her watching him for a second longer, and he smirked before he took a sip of his coffee. Wiping his hands free of crumbs over his empty plate, he leaned forward and lowered his voice, offering her a look she just knew would have had more than half of Thedas weak at the knees. Fortunately, she was not part of that majority. And, more importantly, she was sitting. So she never need assume she'd be anything but strong-jointed in front of the pompous blowhard.

"Why, Little Kitty, did you see something you liked?" He grinned, the spark of mischief glinting brightly in his eyes. She knew he was just teasing her—he was too obvious in his body language, too overt in his tone—but it still irked her to no end.

"Of course I do," she replied honestly, and his smile turned from cocky to intrigued. "You're a very handsome man. To say otherwise would be a lie." She paused when she saw he was about to interject, but when he failed to say anything, she shook her head and shrugged. "But just because I find you appealing does not mean I am attracted to you."

Illario paused for a moment before he licked the inside of his cheek and began to laugh in earnest. "I believe you, Tiny Talla."

She gave him one resolute nod as she bit into her cornetto, savouring the taste of the filling, wiping the corner of her mouth with her fingers in case any of it oozed out. Lilya did not dare look up; the weight of his gaze stuck upon her, she could not afford to look weak after such a strong rejection and render it moot. "As you should, Tomas."

A rickety cart came past them, pushed by Mirae, red with effort. "Ah, good morning, young Talla and Tomas. How are you both today?" she asked, clearing the tableware from them while Lilya held onto her cup protectively to finish off her drink. After a chorus of pleasantries, Mirae pulled the dishrag off her shoulder and wiped the crumbs from the table top. "What has got both of you in such serious discussion? Still no luck on the job front, I take it?" Lilya shook her head as she drained the cup and placed it on the precariously stacked pile of dishes in the cart. "Unfortunately, no, none at all. I've tried all the seamstresses and even all the houses that would be able to employ a maid, but to no avail."

"Though really, the reason our young lady here looks so sullen is that she's finally admitted to fancying me all these years, and I've had to turn her down. She's like a sister to me, and her brother and I? We're thicker than thieves! I could never think of her as anything else," Illario said with his hand covering his heart, probably well aware that Lilya had easy access to the mug holding all the knives in the cart beside her.

Mirae shot him a look that told Lilya she had believed Illario hook, line, and sinker, even as he was turning pink from holding in his laughter. The ass.

"You caught me out, Mirae. That is exactly what happened. I've been madly in love with Tomas here for the better part of my life, and now I am absolutely crestfallen. Whatever shall I do?" she asked, deadpan. That made the older woman laugh, her plump cheeks rounded with mirth as she looked between the two of them.

"Ah, you two do my heart well. If I had been blessed with children, I wish they were like the two of you. Industrious. Smart. Caring—"

"You got that we were caring from that?" Lilya queried, aghast.

"Silly child, when you get to my age, it's never the words you listen to. It's the actions, the eyes. Anyone with only one cloudy eye could see from across the room the affection the two of you hold for each other. Every day you go out together, accompanying one another in search of work. You do everything together. Truly, the way you look out for each other warms my heart. It's a shame that you're such siblings; you would have made a wonderful couple."

Lilya could feel her cheeks start to flush and chanced a glance at Illario, who had taken to coughing into his hand to bear him through the awkwardness.

"Ah, would you look at me, chatting up a storm when there are other tables to clear. I'll see you two for dinner: the cook is making pasta marinara, so make sure you're home in time. That always goes quickly, and soon all you'll have is plain pasta to eat."

With that, she gave a motherly pat to Illario's shoulder and then continued on her way, leaving them staring at each other with slow grins growing on their lips, both finding Mirae's words all too funny.

"Perhaps… we should try to find work on our own today," Lilya offered. "Maybe we will find luck when parted, if people don't assume we're a pair trying to wheedle ourselves in?" She stood, brushing stray crumbs from her simple brown tunic.

"Not a bad idea," Illario agreed. "You try again around Saffron Walk, and I'll stick to the Painted Alleys, and then we can meet here in the middle around twelve bells and have lunch with whatever leftover coin we have?"

He straightened his moss green shirt and dark leather belt. Lilya nodded and hurried off, unwilling to explore the interaction they had just had with their innkeeper. She didn't want to discuss what apparent camaraderie they shared that read as true warmth instead of a finely constructed veil of friendly professionalism – which was the point of it, of course, but still surprised them when remarked upon.

They waved each other off, and Lilya found herself alone in Antiva City for the first time since her arrival. It brought back all the terrible memories of her training, running through the streets to steal food, coin, and valuables from people just to survive. How she'd honed her flirting to a fine skill to charm a merchant into selling her a pair of shoes for a kiss. It was a bargain in her books: for the price of one kiss and a squeeze of her ass, she could replace the shoes she'd had from Highever that had been worn through the soles.

She was willing to bet that her partner had never had to endure that. She did not discount the pain of having to deal with all that being a Dellamorte came with, but she was sure Illario had never had to wander the streets and pretend not to feel the pebbles digging into his already torn-up feet.

… And why the hell was she thinking about him anyway?

Once again, none of the stores or stalls wanted any help, some telling her that business was tight and not needing another wage to pay, others simply saying they didn't need assistance whilst they eyed her up and down and ferried their sons and spouses away like she was shopping for a husband instead of work. Worst of all, there was no information that she could have been deemed useful to their cause, only whisperings of a ruckus down at the Vitelli Guild house, but no one had any hard details. All that could be confirmed was that one of the carriage drivers could not control their sticky fingers and was quickly divested of said extremities. And his head.

The first of the chimes rang out to let her know that it was midday, and she was still ten minutes away from where she had agreed to meet Illario. She didn't want to deal with any smugness from the Master about not being able to tell the time and having to teach her how to do that too. That would show Mirae just how much like siblings they really were, when she smothered him with a pillow for being a smart ass.

To her surprise, as she was rushing through the crowds, the person she had been daydreaming about killing appeared before her, his height making him easy to spot in a crowd. With his dark hair pulled back neatly and a casual stance filled with such confidence, it was almost hard to believe that he was anything but a Crow, let alone a simple country boy desperate for employment. If he had been that, a scout would have seen him from a mile away and picked him up and recruited him on the spot.

Illario spotted her from the corner of his eye and turned to face her, flashing her that smile he gave to everyone and waving as he met her halfway. "There you are!"

"W-What are you doing here? I thought we were going to meet back near the inn? Did I misunderstand?" she asked, trying to breathe normally and not look at all winded.

He shook his head and picked off a random feather that had landed on her shoulder as she ran through the markets. "No, I just finished up earlier and thought that I'd come and find you instead. More places to eat here than back there."

"That was risky," she snorted, brushing herself down in case there were any more surprise passengers on her person. "We could have completely passed each other on the way back and then where would we have been?"

"Not a chance. I wouldn't be able to miss you," he replied quickly. Then his eyes widened ever so slightly when he realised what his words insinuated. "From my awareness training and all that," he added, barely over a whisper, to cover his tracks.

Lilya huffed out a laugh and pretended she didn't notice and gestured down the lane to her right stiffly. "A place down here makes some amazing cheeses, and there's a wonderful bakery there too. We can probably scrape by on a loaf of bread and a wedge of cheese—"

"You do realise that I could easily afford a proper lunch, yes? We're far enough away from the inn for it not to matter."

"That's not quite the point here, is it? If anyone is watching, they're going to get suspicious when you take us to Anton's for some wine and fine paella."

"… Do you want some wine and fine paella?"

"You're impossible. It's like you want us to get caught."

"Alright, Kitty"—he paused at the aggravated grumble that came from her throat and coughed, changing tactics—"Baby Bird. Let's get some bread and cheese. I'm agog with the need for it."

"Idiot."

Illario laughed and began to walk ahead of her with his hands shoved deep into his pants pockets. He was slouching, shoulders curled forward like a man who had been told all his life he was too tall, but it was still endearing, enough to make people automatically relax around him and want to be his friend. The bastard may have forgotten himself and dropped his act during those moments when he looked for her, but now he was back in the game, his technique flawless. Her teachers were right that first morning in the training compound: she was around Masters; she should learn everything she could from them whilst she had the chance.

Once they had food, they sat themselves at the fountain in front of the Chantry, where only a few people gathered around on the weekday. Most were flocking towards the markets or returning home for their own meals.

"Any luck?" he asked, words slightly muffled from a mouth full of bread.

Lilya made a sound and shook her head, happily bopping in place as she ate, humming as the cheese and butter spread across her taste buds. "Nope. No one wanted a bar of me. You?"

"Not really."

"Not really is not a no."

"Not a yes either," he said before taking another bite and then a deep breath. "I heard that the Perfumed Dice were looking for new croupiers for their casino."

Lilya half-choked-half-swallowed a rather large bite of bread and smacked her chest with her fist. "What? That's actually kind of perfect! We can—"

"Female croupiers, Baby Bird. Only female croupiers. What does that tell you, coming from a place like that?" he asked, turning to her with one eyebrow raised.

Oh.

Taking a second to think about it was more than she needed. It was perfect. The ideal place to get information from the unscrupulous, people drunk on booze and lust and greed. She was not ignorant of what that job would entail: they would advertise for a croupier, to deal their games and entertain their guests, but it would not be long until they were expected to join the other whores to please their clientele if they were asked for and the right price paid. How was it any different to a contract that asked her to kill or seduce as needed? The fee they paid for her services. That was it.

"Seems stupid to ignore the opportunity. There's no one else hiring at the moment, and no word of anything else either. We need money. We need this." Lilya shrugged and finished off her humble sandwich, brushing the crumbs off her lap and crossing her legs at the ankles in front of her to mirror his nonchalant pose.

"We don't need it that much," he replied quietly. And she appreciated it; truly she did. Only someone else in the Crows, particularly someone with the same set of skills she had, understood what the reality of their lives meant. "If we don't have to put you in that position—"

"We are already in that position. We barely have enough coin to live another week or two. If we don't work soon, we'll be out on the street."

"Talla—"

"Tomas," she quipped with a stern stare. "We're here to make some sort of living. This isn't permanent. Just enough to get by or until I find something better and no longer."

"Maybe I can get a job as a guard there," he added, scratching his chin. "At least that way I can still have your back."

"Yeah! That would be great! Were there any positions available?"

"No, but no harm in just showing up and asking!"

One guard was going to go conveniently missing; she just knew it.

Lilya nodded and steeled her stomach; this would not be pleasant. This would be very different from seducing a duke in a pretty mansion or even a high-end brothel. The Perfumed Dice was not the worst establishment of its kind, but neither was it exactly the safest place to be. Too many drunk patrons taking out their anger on the workers at the gambling den and whorehouse. She could get hurt, in more ways than one, and it warmed a little part of her heart to know that Illario had wanted to shield her from it.

"Then that settles it. Tomorrow we will go there and apply."

A bustle of faithful left the Chantry in what seemed to be the last rush before people left for their siestas; half of the stall merchants still in view were covering their wares and then heading off. Lilya was about to stand to join them when she noticed that Illario was still sitting, lounging around and enjoying the peace the courtyard provided after the rush of their morning. She did not expect him to be the kind to want to sit still for too long when it was not related to a mission.

"Do you like Chantries?"

He wanted to chat?

"Uh, yeah. I guess. They're pretty enough, and the smell of the candles burning is soothing in its own way."

"I… I really like them. Always have, ever since I was a kid. My parents often took me to service when they were both home, and we'd go out for lunch at the stalls set up around the courtyard every Sunday."

"That sounds lovely," she replied, finding herself wondering if this was a story he had built around Tomas's character… or if this was him letting her look behind one of his masks.

Illario nodded and smiled softly, turning around to face her. He let one of his hands dip into the clear water beside him and skimmed the surface, watching the ripples erupt from his touch. "I miss the one back home, strangely enough," he laughed, shaking his hand free of the droplets still clinging to his skin.

"You do?"

"Mm-hmm. I do. I went often – not to the sermons, mind you – but I'd go there whenever it was quietest. Just walk in and sit in one of the pews at the back, listening to other people's prayers. The sisters practising their hymns. Lighting a candle for my parents."

Him then. This was Illario talking to her.

"I should go more often," she said without thinking, allowing herself to be vulnerable just for a moment too. "Perhaps when we return, I'll try to attend more frequently. I should like to do a lot of things more frequently when we go back home, if I'm honest." She could not sense anyone lurking in the shadows around them; there would be no harm in having a friendly, if indistinct, chat.

Illario had immediately caught on that it was her talking to him and paid closer attention, his deep blue eyes staring at her as he waited for her next words. It was there, with the sounds of water trickling in the background, the heat of the afternoon sun beaming down upon them, and the scent of the leftover bread beside her, that she felt it—a shift in their dynamic. Slight, almost imperceptible if she weren't paying attention, but it was there, and it was impossible for her to ignore. "Like what?"

Weighing up whether to be honest with him, Lilya decided there was nothing to be lost if she treated him like a person and not some grand threat to her, like Viago and Ilene had convinced themselves he was. It would be better if they were actually friendly instead of merely pretending to be; it would make their job so much easier.

"What, what?" she asked, buying herself more time.

"What would you do more frequently? What do you miss? I miss the Chantry back home. I miss this little cafe my cousin and I would frequent; they had the best coffee there." His gaze softened as he recalled some lovely memory, and a small smile appeared, warming his features so he resembled a human instead of a perfect marble statue.

"My family."

"What about them?"

"I miss them," she said, with more emotion than she had intended. "I can just imagine all my siblings at home. They all come back only to find me gone… They'll be so disappointed."

Illario's brow furrowed, and he gave her a confused look. "Disappointed? Why?"

"We all lined everything up to be together, but then I had to come here all of a sudden—"

"Together? For what?"

Inquisitive little bastard when he wanted to be, wasn't he?

"My nameday," she admitted, smiling sheepishly at him. "I spent it travelling here, so I missed celebrating it with them."

Genuine surprise crossed Illario's face as he sat up and wiped his hand, still damp from the fountain, on the side of his pants. "Your nameday! Of course! Why didn't you remind me?" he said to cover his shock.

"Eh, it's alright. Just a little tradition we all have. We spend our namedays together, whenever possible. Even as life gets busier and responsibilities take us far and wide, we're still making time for each other and the important things – uh, where are you going?" she asked, when he quickly stood up and walked away.

"Stay there!" he called back, not bothering to turn around, just waving her concern off with one hand.

"Ill…. I… Tomas!"

Lilya sat there, chiding herself for almost calling his name out like an absolute amateur, and packed away the remnants of their modest meal. It could be dinner that night in case they did, in fact, miss out on the food the cook back at the inn prepared. She thought about the cook back in Viago's manor in Treviso and sighed. She hadn't lied when she said she missed her family; she could only imagine how bad the fallout had been when Ilene realised Viago had sent her off to a months-long mission right before her nameday, forcing her to spend it in the backseat of a carriage alone, only the rhythm of the wheels on the road to accompany her.

Hearing footsteps approach, she looked back up just in time to see Illario present her with a small tart with glistening fruit glazed in hardened syrup over a sumptuous bed of custard. Lilya could feel her mouth water just at the sight of it.

"Wha—"

"Happy nameday!" he cried out, wide smile almost blinding in the light.

She sat there staring at the confection like an idiot. Dazed and dumb and delighted.

"For me?" Lilya confirmed, her hand halfway to accepting the gift.

Illario looked at her like she was daft, but the sincerity in his smile did not leave him. "I mean, I could give it to one of the Sisters in the Chantry. Try to bribe my way to the Maker's side. Seems rather apt for me, don't you think? You know, I think I will do that—"

"No! Wait!" she laughed, catching him by his forearm and pulling him back, happily taking the pastry from him. "You'll need much more to bribe the Sisters and the Maker. Best give that to me. I am very easily bribed."

"You are?"

"I'm a cheap date. Good food and I'm practically yours."

"You are?" he chuckled, joining in her easy merriment.

Lilya paused and realised she wasn't speaking to one of her siblings or to Teia or Viago; she should not play around so freely and instead be much more wary of her choice of words. "Well, not yours per se… but someone's. Sometimes."

Illario said nothing beyond encouraging her to eat, but she was too busy marvelling at the pretty arrangement of fruits on top of the tart and trying her best not to decipher what he meant by getting her a gift.

"Oh, I forgot the candle!"

"It's not important–"

"Here." Holding his index finger up behind the tart, he offered the tip of it in place of a candle to blow out. "C'mon, Baby Bird, make a wish."

"I wish that this were a real candle."

"I thought it wasn't important?"

"A girl can be wrong once or twice in her life."

Illario huffed and was about to turn around to purchase a candle from the bakery when she laughed once again and grabbed his wrist, blowing on the finger gently.

"What did you wish for?"

"World peace."

"What did you really wish for?"

"… How do you know I didn't wish for world peace?"

"Are you purposefully trying to avoid the question, or did you not want to eat it? I always see you munching on some piece of fruit or another, so I thought this would be the best option. Or was I wrong and should have gone for the cinnamon or chocolate?"

She shook her head, amazed he had even noticed that about her.

"Well then, eat! Happy belated nameday! Or are you afraid of a little avoirdupois?" he asked cheekily, easily jumping out of the way of her halfhearted kick to the shins.

"All I'm afraid of, Tomas, is that butchering of the Orlesian language." She snorted, turning the tart in her hand to watch the glaze shine in the sun. "And… thank you."

Lilya wasted no more time in peeling away the wax paper from the bottom of the tart and taking a bite of the sweet, eyes closing happily as she hummed her appreciation for the decadent flavours dancing across her palate. He really had picked right; it would be what caught her eye if she'd chosen for herself. Illario's grin grew at her obvious joy, and he pushed his hands back into his pockets to sit beside her, in an act she could only assume was to let her eat slowly and enjoy the treat.

Illario turned to face her just as she took another bite and laughed. Lilya paused immediately, worried she had custard or sugar all over her face.

"No, no, you're fine," he assured her. "It's just… I just assumed all members of your family were like Viago—paranoid. Forever testing and retesting their food. I'm surprised you even ate it."

A bubble of laughter escaped her full mouth, and she covered it, scared that she'd accidentally spit the bite out. Lilya nodded and agreed with him, giggling wholeheartedly once she safely swallowed. "You're right, actually. They are. I'm the black sheep of the family."

He guffawed and took another look at her. "You must be joking."

She shook her head with a mock-sorrowful expression, pressing her free hand to her chest to denote her earnestness. "Alas, I am not. The rest of my family is very diligent when it comes to food safety. Unfortunately, I never quite learned that and just throw myself every which way and hope for the best."

She shrugged, tearing off a part of the tart and handing it to him, ignoring his polite rejections and smiling at him when he relented and took the pastry from her. Lowering her voice, she ensured she spoke only loud enough so he could hear her.

"Like this tart? I'm sure it's not poisoned. Because my family would definitely blame you first, and they'd hunt you down and kill you. That 'brother' of mine you're so close to? Wouldn't think twice about gutting you if something happened to me."

"The vote of confidence in me is stirring, truly."

"Oh, shush!" she laughed, slapping him playfully. "Besides, I have nothing to fear from you –"

"Now you're just trying to hurt me!"

"No, you misunderstand! They've been micro-dosing me for years. They say they've stopped, but I know better. At this point, anything you'd have access to, I'd be immune to, or close to. It's nothing in comparison to Ilene or Viago –"

He shuddered at Ilene's name, and Lilya paused, shocked to see such a visceral reaction from him.

"Yeah, they're clinically insane. It's funny, but I forget sometimes that you and that demon monkey consider yourselves family."

"Hey –"

"No offence meant, but you're hardly very similar in temperament or looks. It's easy to see why anyone would forget that."

Lilya conceded he was right; most people did not assume they counted themselves as sisters, but that didn't matter. Only what they believed and how they felt mattered. And Ilene would always be her little Bug. "I didn't piece together that you were the one she said called her demon monkey. You ass! She was just a child –"

"A child?!" he cried, rolling up his sleeve as he scoffed. "Look at what that child did to me!"

"You're being so dramati– Maker! How hard did she bite you?" she gasped, staring at the deep, clean scars of a small bite, Ilene's bite. "Alright, I can see why from your perspective, she is indeed a demon monkey –"

"Thank you."

"But she really is such a lovely, precocious young thing. Brilliant and bright and –"

"One helluva bite."

"… Exactly." Lilya breathed out in amusement through her nose and smiled up at Illario, feeling much more like herself than she had since she stepped back into Antiva City more than a fortnight ago.

Illario finished off his bite of tart and surveyed her once more as she savoured the rest without a care in the world. "Maybe one day you'll have faith in me not poisoning you, rather than relying on your immunity or your family's retribution," he said, unable to hide the tinge of disappointment in his voice. "But I get it. They're family. And I'm just… me. I get it."

Lilya chewed and looked over at him thoughtfully, her cheeks puffed out from the pastry, which seemed to bring back the cheer to his smile. "I think you're too smart to be stupid enough to play with poisons against my people. And I have faith that you mean me no harm."

He looked at her with such honest astonishment that she could not help but think of how poorly others thought of him, that such a flippant statement of confidence was enough to make him look like that. How many masks had he been forced to wear all this time? And why?

"And as thanks for the kind gesture for my nameday, let me offer some advice."

Blinking rapidly, he sat up straighter and remained silent, rapt in what she had to say.

"Never let Ilene bite you again. She's probably venomous at this point."

Illario's jaw dropped, absolutely appalled, so many questions crossing over his face until she dissolved into a fit of giggles, and he softened, relaxing when he understood she was joking.

"Oh, you got me. I'll give you that one."

"Oh, I wasn't joking."

"Mierda."

As per their nightly ritual, after dinner, they retreated back to their rooms to get a couple of hours of sleep before taking to the roofs to stake out their portion of the city. They had opted to stay away from the Perfumed Dice that evening. They'd be hired there soon enough and privy to all of the gossip from the inside – as well as the paid-for-moans and the smell of cheap beer and piss. If they had one last chance to avoid all of that, then by the Maker, they were going to take it.

Halfway into the night, after they had perched themselves on the roof of a lingerie shop, back to back, Lilya rummaged through her pack. Two seconds later she let out a subdued "Aha!" and giggled to herself, causing Illario to turn back to her with interest.

"What have you got there, Baby Bird?"

When no response came, the Master twisted around completely, only to be faced with a half-squished cake. He looked at her and the dark lump in her hands in turns before scratching at his cheek with an awkward smile on his face. "What's all this for? Not done celebrating your nameday? If you are in a proper celebrating mood, we could have a proper evening –"

"No, not for me." She grinned, breaking the cake in half and giving him the nicer piece. "You made me realise that just because I'm not with the people I love in person, it doesn't mean I can't still be with them somehow. This cake is for Zalan. It was his nameday yesterday, and if I know him, he would have made sure to celebrate with his favourite cake… which I so happen to have right here."

Illario raised the cake to his nose and sniffed the chocolate and coffee. "How did you even get this? Did you double back to the bakery after dinner and break in or something? Should have told me. I'd have asked you to pick me up something," he joked, removing his glove to tear off a bit before eating it. "Hmm, not bad."

"It's pretty good. Not as good as the one back home, but not bad from our inn."

"Our inn made this? Since when?" he asked, taking a hearty bite from it, clearly enjoying the rich flavours.

Lilya grinned mischievously. "Just because you have Mirae wrapped around your little finger doesn't mean I don't have my own friends."

"Who have you become friendly with?"

"The cook. That man would adopt me if he could."

"I don't know if adopt is the right word for it."

"Not all men think like that. Besides, if he were going to do anything with either of us, I would not be his first choice."

"So what I'm hearing is that if I cosy up to this cook, I could be the one getting the cakes? Have you been holding out on me all this time and eating secret cake in your room? That's low. That's a cruel betrayal from you, Baby Bird." Illario clucked his tongue and shook his head disapprovingly, all the while keeping his hands out of Lilya's reach as she tried to take back her cake.

Lilya huffed and blew her hair out of her face, giving up on trying to take back the sweet and focusing on eating her portion. "Anyway, it's the twentieth anniversary of the inn's opening, so it was just a happy coincidence. The cook cut me a slice of the staff's cake when he saw me eyeing it. How could I say no? It was like the world was telling me to celebrate with Zalan!"

Illario finished off the cake and swallowed before thanking her, wiping off any crumbs that may have fallen onto him, still conscious of his presentation even in the dark of the night. "So… who is this Zalan? Come, tell me all about him, as it seems we have yet another night of nothing but the stars to watch."

Something in the way he said it made Lilya pause; he spoke a little too quickly, a little too sharply, like it stung for him to say it. But it was probably all in her mind, too hopped up on sugar and fond memories to really pay attention. She turned to him, large smile on her face as she popped another bite of cake into her mouth.

"Zalan? Oh, he's my brother."

"Brother brother? Or Ilene kind of brother?"

"They're the same thing to me." She shrugged, wiping her hands together. "They're my family. Just because we don't share blood doesn't mean we won't spill it for each other."

Illario smiled. "What a very admirable thing to say. Tell me about him. It will be nice to know of someone in your family who hasn't scowled at me or tried to take a chunk out of me."

"Zalan is a great Crow, and you'd best make sure you don't say anything bad about Ilene because those two are the best of friends. Practically twins. If it weren't for Ilene's ears, you'd really think they're siblings," she said, smiling softly at the thought of the two idiots running amok and driving Viago crazy.

"So you've known him since he was a kid too?"

"No, I only met him about… hmm… five or so years ago? When I first moved to Salle after training. It's so funny, I had just had another argument with Viago and was certain that time was it. We were too different. It would be easier to just be his Crow instead of… well, instead of something more. And I went out to the market, and there was this beautiful man across the way. Deepest brown eyes you'd ever seen. We played cat-and-mouse from stall to stall until finally we met in the middle. We were getting along so well, I had thought that maybe he was my sign from the Maker to stop trying to make it work with Viago and try with someone else—"

"Because you saw someone pretty in the market at Salle?" he asked, with more than a touch of incredulity to his voice; he almost sounded annoyed.

"Yes?" she answered, unsure where the sudden judgement was coming from. He wasn't particularly known for his abstinence or strength against a pretty face. "But it was all for naught anyway. Just as we said hello, Ilene came running up to us. Realising that we were siblings by proxy nipped anything in the bud."

"Yeah, I'm starting to see that Ilene is really good at that."

"Huh? What was that?"

"Nothing."

"But since then, Zalan has become such a dear, dear friend. He's a couple of years younger than me, but he's been a real confidant and support these last few years. Certainly made going on missions less awkward when pretending to be a couple. At least after the initial show is over, he knows nothing is going to happen. Surely you understand what that's like."

Illario nodded knowingly, having been on many more contracts than she had. "So does that mean Viago is the only person you've been in a relationship with? That must be some sort of Crow record. We'll have to have it recorded next time we're at the training compound."

"Oh, shut up," she huffed, knocking into him with her shoulder. "Besides, Viago wasn't the only relationship I've had. There was a boy during training, but that was hardly anything but a physical distraction. Having someone able to touch you without the fear of being stabbed in the back for a small portion of the day was a small comfort that the trainers didn't take away from us. But… yes. Being Viago's sword and shield does not leave a lot of time for, uh, socialising."

After a moment of silence, Lilya looked at Illario, who was watching her thoughtfully, and she wiped at her mouth in case any icing was left on her face… causing the man to break out in an amused smile and reach out to pat her on the head affectionately.

"And you?" she asked. "Don't think you can have me dish out my history and not offer anything of yourself. That is hardly fair."

"Life isn't fair, Baby Bird."

"Suit yourself, but next time Cook gives me a slice of something delicious, I will keep it all to myself."

Illario looked at her and could tell she was only half-joking. She would make good on that threat.

"You're a secret brat, aren't you? You play off like you're some reserved, composed, and polite little thing, but under those leathers, you're nothing but a little brat."

"And a damn good one too." She grinned, and he laughed loudly, enough for someone in an opposite building somewhere to shout out of their window to tell him to be quiet. Which only caused him to laugh louder.

"Alright, alright. I'll tell you about my sordid past… next time. It's about time we head out to the next point before turning in for the night."

Lilya stood and jutted out her hip, her fist balled on top of it. "You're never going to tell me, are you, you jackass?"

"Bring me some more cake, and we'll see."

Tagging: @jenn2d2 @davrinsleftpectoral @jukkaricity @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @sorcerousadventurer @serialsforbellara

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